


But I'm Still Hanging onto The Memories That You Left

by bellamyblakesbeard



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, I think?, RIP, Season 1, Season 2, Shit, bc they are the biggest Bros, bellamy x raven is only in bros, but kinda lowkey, canonverse, for da win, have fun, i love me some good blarke, lowkey, season 4, so sorry braven shippers, suicidal!bellamy, uhmmm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 23:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12242769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellamyblakesbeard/pseuds/bellamyblakesbeard
Summary: Post-Season 4 finale, kind of.---Bellamy struggles with the thought of his beloved princess dead.---send me some prompts @princessofassguard.tumblr.com





	But I'm Still Hanging onto The Memories That You Left

_She's spitting out the wine, I forgot you left behind, our favorite cherry red._

As Bellamy was staring at the burning flame of gas that was once his and the delinquents' home, his heart thumped sorely in his chest. It had hardly been less than an hour since the brutal events had happened: him and Clarke being separated one last time as she had to go fix the panel on the tower; watching the clock tick down as it was apparent that Clarke wasn't going to make it; the horrendous parallelization that struck him as he closed the rocket's doors, wondering if the regret and burn of tears was what Clarke had felt all those months ago when they first landed as she had to close the Dropship doors and leave him behind; the burning of his throat, of his lungs as he slowly suffocated. When the air filtration began working, and he came to, his body was starved of oxygen and he greedily gulped all he could as he slumped against the cool metal of the Ark.

 

When his body returned to normal though, all he could feel was guilt and regret. Guilt for leaving Clarke behind, for knowing that she had suffered to make sure all of them had survived. Regret for not dying then and there, and being able to see her once more. He forced his eyes shut, his hands clenched at his sides as he tried to picture her face as it was, yet he can't help but let her words of her mother's vision creep into his mind, and suddenly the Clarke that he knew is covered in boils and burns and she's screaming for help.

 

He's a fool for ever thinking that he could do this without her.

 

He's a fool for leaving her behind.

 

The silence in the hallway is deafening so when he hears footsteps, he's not surprised.

 

"She's saved us again," Raven says, quietly, but in Bellamy's mind she may as well be screaming the words. He takes a quick glance at her, a small bob of his head, and he focuses back onto Clarke's grave. "You think we can do this without her?"

 

He clenches his jaw in response, his vision beginning to blur. Bellamy isn't strong enough to say the words he's thinking, instead forcing out the words she needs to hear. "If we don't," and he takes a pause because _God_ he never thought he would have to speak these words about Clarke.

 

This wasn't how their story was supposed to go.

 

"She died in vain." His mouth stays open, trying to figure out how to shape his lips to form the words he's about to say. "And I'm not gonna let that happen." His eyes are searching the flame that was-- _is_ Earth, but he forces himself to look away. "You with me?"

 

His voice cracks.

 

"Always," Raven responds. Bellamy nods, grateful that she didn't say _Together._ They stay there watching the flames consume the Earth for a while, but Bellamy ends up with the view to himself. He's not quite ready to look away yet, to fully let go of what may be the last sign of his princess.

 

Raven was supposed to be making calculations with Monty to start the algae farm and filtration system for water as soon as they could, but when she calls for Bellamy and he follows the sound of her voice into the only room _any_ sound has been coming from, he's more grateful of it than anything else.

 

"We need to start limiting resources to increase the maximum chance of survival, but I thought you'd like to see this first."

 

Her and Monty were in the Earth Monitoring Station that was still enflamed with dull blues and grays as a hundred monitors lit the scene. All 100 of them had their occupant's photo to the left, vitals showing nothing but zeros, and blinking red letters.

 

_Transmission Terminated_

 

There were screens where he didn't know or remember a name and in consequence he felt a flash of guilt, before moving on. Octavia was on the same monitor as Miller, somewhere in the middle of all the screens, but to the left. He couldn't find the one with Jasper's face on it, and he thinks of his end, and how he couldn't save him.

 

He couldn't save a lot of his people.

 

Finding Wells’ face brought memories of the first couple of days of Earth back to Bellamy's mind, back when him and his princess would argue or not even spare looks at each other, but when it came down to it, they both fought, blood and brawns, together, side by side.  


She's on the same monitor as Wells and he doesn't know why he's surprised to find the similar phrase flashing across her screen.

 

With everyone else, excluding his sister and those in the bunker, he knows the words hold truth to them.

 

He doesn't know for sure if they hold the same weight for her, but judging by the flames that he was just staring mercilessly at, he has no other choice but to say that it's better to say that they do, rather if they didn't.

 

Seven months later, he knows for sure because he has been making ticks in the metal of the wall that homes the Medical Station, he goes back to the window with the perfect view of his hell. Looking down, the bottle of scotch teases him.

 

_Why don't you go get a drink? You look like you could use one._

 

_I think we deserve a drink._

 

 _Have one for me_. 

 

For a minute, everything is silent. Then everything rushes into a flurry of movement.

 

He picks up the 97-year-old, empty bottle of scotch and cracks it against the ledge it was sitting on. Bellamy hardly closes his eyes as the glass shatters everywhere, save for a quarter of the bottle that he was still holding onto. A sob erupts his lips as he sinks down to the ground, a large piece of glass in his hands. The sound is echoing and haunting, and he doesn't bother to mask it anymore.

 

Later, when Echo finds him, his fingers are running over the edges of the piece as crusted blood glints in the dim light. There was an angry red line glowering on one of his knuckles on his left hand, and even if it wasn't intentional, it would scar.

 

 _Good._ He had responded. _It can join the rest of them._

 

Echo takes the glass away from him and gets him to stand on his feet. She leads him to a small stock of moonshine that Monty had been able to scrape together and before he knows it, she's leading a buzzed Bellamy back to her own space on the Ring, and he can't find it in himself to mind all that much.

 

When he watches her undress, he can't help but point out inaccuracies to himself; he can't help the differences that form into their own little list that he didn't intentionally create. And when he can't finish with her, but with himself, he stops himself from moaning Clarke's name. It's hard, though, when it so easily placed itself on the tip of his tongue.

 

Echo doesn't quite meet his eye the next morning and he doesn't blame her.

 

A small piece of him wishes that she would have been the one that was given Clarke's mission instead, but he understands why Raven couldn't trust Echo enough for a task that would determine whether they lived or not.

 

He wishes that Clarke would've injected him with the nightblood, and that he would've been able to stay with her. Hell, he would've stayed with her even if he _didn't_ have the nightblood solution. But he knew that he had done what she had wanted; he used his head instead of his heart.

 

It was all too easy to do so, especially when his heart was running away, and he had a front row seat to watching her die.

 

_I know this isn't love, cause I'm still thinking of you, while she's getting undressed. I never should have left._

 

 


End file.
